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by angstbot



Series: Readers' Choice [23]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), Swen, swan queen - Fandom
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-10-20 18:45:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10668603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angstbot/pseuds/angstbot
Summary: Slowly, Storybrooke and Regina become Emma's home. Spans Season 1-3 and then an unspecified time later, but not all that canon compliant. Readers' Choice VII, Part 5.





	Home

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: I am homesick for a place I am not sure even exists. One where my heart is full and my soul understood

Emma wasn’t unhappy. She had a job. It paid well enough to have a really nice apartment. She was damn good at it, too. She really liked contributing to justice when she brought in bail jumpers, even though, yeah, it was maybe about making good for her misspent youth.

If her life was a tour of one-night stands and a stream of cocoa and magazines, if every place she tracked someone down looked the same—abandoned drive-in theaters and gutted factories—if she never saw a familiar face for weeks on end, well, that was just the cost of doing business.

So, okay, she wasn’t happy either. She told herself she couldn’t possibly be homesick. She didn’t even know what home felt like. How could she, when she’d never had one? It just wasn’t in the cards for her, the orphan, the ex-con, the loner. It was probably just a story people made up to make kids feel better anyway, right?

And yet, sometimes, on long, lonely stretches of road, or when she’d stare at the ceiling instead of sleeping, or during a long weekend rattling around alone in her apartment wondering if anyone would notice if she died, something inside her felt hollow, left her yearning for a place where she was understood and loved.

Usually, she filled that space as quickly as possible with alcohol and meaningless sex, so when a little boy claiming to be her kid showed up exactly at her lowest point and dragged her to Maine and his smoking-hot mom offered her a drink? It seemed like fate.

**

Hate sex, it turned out, was much better than meaningless sex. She and Regina would get in each other’s faces, taunt and threaten and sometimes scream—it didn’t matter what it was about, Henry or the sheriff’s office or the mayor just being impossible—and somehow they’d be kissing, gripping, scratching, biting, tearing at each other’s clothes. Emma lost more than a few shirts that way, and even though she destroyed her share of fancy mayoral blouses, Regina had more clothes to spare.

Right now, they were pressed up against the wall in Regina’s office, kissing hard between gasping into each other’s mouths, their fingers rubbing circles between each other’s thighs. For the third time this week.

“Come on, Miss Swan, make me come. I have a meeting in a few minutes.”

“You’re such a fucking smug- fucking- asshole,” Emma sputtered, irritated but distracted by Regina’s touch.

“You don’t say,” Regina taunted, then bit into her neck, sucking hard.

“Fucking- don’t mark me!”

“Make me,” Regina growled, then attacked her neck again.

“Oh fuck you.”

“Promises.”

In the next moment, Emma pushed her fingers inside at the same time that she sank to her knees, out of range of hickeys.

“You look so good on your knees for me,” Regina sneered.

Emma glared at her, and the moment balanced on knifepoint. She needed to wipe that smug look off her face. She could walk away now and just leave Regina wet and needy. Or she could make her gasp and moan too much to be an asshole.

The hot slickness around her fingers made up her mind, and in the next instant she was sucking Regina’s clit and fucking her hard. Regina’s moan was delicious. In no time her thigh was trembling against Emma’s cheek, and her hand was grabbing hard at her head, and she was blissfully too distracted to give her any shit. It was so good to strip everything away to the needy woman underneath.

Regina came in no time, just as a knock came on the door.

“You have to go, but I haven’t- you-” and she was so beautiful like this, all taken apart.

“It’s okay,” Emma said, standing and closing her fly.

“No, it’s not. Come over tonight. I’ll leave the window unlocked.”

**

Visiting Regina’s bedroom became a regular thing after that. They were still just fucking, of course, Emma didn’t kid herself. They didn’t cuddle afterward or anything, even though soon there wasn’t really taunting anymore, and sometimes they even spent hours racking up orgasm after orgasm. But always, once it was over, Emma got up and found her clothes and left, even after she started coming in through the front door instead of the window. Even after she started kissing Regina goodbye.

Emma didn’t let herself think about how comfortable 108 Mifflin was, how comfortable Regina’s bed was, how comfortable she and Regina were. She didn’t let herself think about how she missed it when circumstances kept them apart. She didn’t let herself think about the way that twinge of emptiness from somewhere near her heart without Regina must mean it was full with Regina. 

**

Breaking the curse changed everything. Emma had to deal with the fact that magic—magic!—was real. She was really a fairytale princess whose parents, Snow White and Prince Charming, sent her away to one day save everyone from a dark curse. Regina was really the evil queen whose vengeance against Emma’s parents had resulted in her growing up an orphan. And her parents _really_ hated Regina.

She was supposed to hate Regina. Mary Margaret- Snow- her mother- _whoever she was-_ definitely expected her to. But she couldn’t. So she saved Regina from the lynch mob. Then she fell through the portal trying to push Regina out of harm’s way.

And when Regina left the welcome home party, walking off in the night looking small and broken, Emma had to go after her.

“Ms. Swan?” The shock on her face when she opened the door made Emma wonder if this was a terrible idea.

“Hey.”

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” she asked, stiffly, formally, as if she wasn’t someone whose kisses Emma craved and who could make her body sing.

“I haven’t come to visit in a while,” Emma said, shrugging and scuffing her boot against the doorstep.

“You were unavoidably detained,” Regina answered. It was so deadpan Emma had to look up. She caught the twinkle in her eye and relaxed a little.

“That’s one way to put it. Can I come in?”

“I’m not really in the mood,” Regina said, but she stepped back and let her inside.

“How about for a friend?” Emma gave her a little smile.

Regina scoffed. “We were never friends.”

“Not even a little,” Emma admitted. “But I think we could be.”

“Did you forget who I am while you were gone, Ms. Swan?”

“Not at all. But I can’t choose who my parents are and I can’t choose whether to be the savior, and everything about my life is destined except Henry and you. I chose to become friends with you.” At Regina’s raised eyebrow she corrected, “Fuck buddies with you. And right now, you and I are about all I understand. Damn it, we work and I don’t care what anyone thinks, or says, or that it would give my parents aneurysms.”

“That’s a selling point,” Regina teased.

Now it was Emma’s turn to be amused. “Whatever, the point is I’m content here, with you. You make me feel understood.” Regina was going to mock her now, she knew. She tensed.

“How would you like a glass of cider?” Regina asked, and it felt, just a little, like coming home.

**

Emma had always lived in cities, or at least in suburbs around big cities. A little town like Storybrooke should have been totally boring and limiting even if it _wasn’t_ magicked into perpetual stasis. But the simplicity strangely appealed to her. There was just something about how people went to work and school and Granny’s in their relatively predictable schedules, how pageants and festivals and holidays came around like clockwork, the community of it all with everyone sort of knowing and helping one another.

Having nature nearby was pretty nice, too. Emma could go out in the forest when she needed to be alone but never be that far from home.

 _Home_. It felt weird to even think it, but as she trudged all over Neverland to get Henry back, she realized that in some strange way it was. Not always, and half the time the thought still made her itchy to run.

It was, oddly, easier to think of it as home when she was getting along with Regina.

**

Emma’s life was great. She had a great job and a gorgeous apartment and she hadn’t even screwed up her kid like she’d been afraid of in prison. She even had a boyfriend who seemed like he was made for her, he was so perfect.

It should have been everything she ever wanted. It _was_ everything she ever wanted. But it was also wrong, somehow. Something was missing. She had a routine and it was a perfectly fine, ordinary life, but she felt, somehow, inexplicably, like it shouldn’t be ordinary. She felt, somehow, inexplicably, like this wasn’t the family she was supposed to have. She felt, somehow, inexplicably, homesick for a place that couldn’t possibly exist. She felt, somehow, inexplicably, like that woman in her dreams—who was so familiar and yet she knew she’d never met her—was missing.

And so when a strange man showed up and told her she didn’t remember who she really was, she was intrigued—even though he’d assaulted her. It was absolutely stupid to drink anything from a stranger, let alone one who’d already kissed her by force, but maybe he really could help her remember. Maybe he really could take her home.

**

When they were trapped in Rumpelstiltskin’s vault, Emma knew. She knew what she wanted. Neal’s words echoed in her head. _That’s how you know you’ve really got a home: When you leave it, there’s that feeling that you can’t shake. You just miss it._ Her magic came back. The wand worked. They went home.

She went immediately to knock on Regina’s door. Maybe the third time was the charm.

“Emma! Where have you been? We’ve been worried-”

“Hook and I got sucked through Zelena’s portal and trapped and it’s a long story but I need to talk to you,” Emma said, all in a rush.

“Of course. Come in. What’s going on?”

“I don’t want to be your friend with benefits anymore,” she blurted out as soon as Regina had shut the door, then rushed to clarify when she saw her face. “No, no-no-no.”

“I understand. Hook-” Regina began.

“Ew!” Emma cut her off. “No! I mean I want to be more than that. Rumpelstiltskin trapped us in his vault, and I didn’t have my magic from giving Hook CPR, and all I wanted in the whole world was to come back here.”

“To Storybrooke,” Regina said.

“ _Here_ ,” Emma emphasized. “To your house where you live with our son. To you. I wanted to come back. For the first time in my entire life I wanted to stop running. I realized that when Henry brought me to Storybrooke he wasn’t bringing me back to break a curse. He was bringing me home. Neal once told me you don’t have a home until you just miss it.” She stopped, and the silence lasted so long she started to worry. Maybe Regina didn’t want that from her. Maybe this was a horrible mistake. Maybe-

“And you missed _me_?” Regina asked, almost inaudibly.

“Yeah,” Emma said. “Is that ok?”

“It’s certainly different,” Regina said, and Emma’s heart sank. But then she finished, “But I think we can manage.”

“There’s a quote I think about sometimes. ‘I’m homesick for a place I’m not sure even exists, where my heart is full and my soul understood.’ Feels like here. Feels like you.”

“So then maybe it does exist,” Regina said, half shrugging. “I do like the idea of making this place your home.”

“Yeah?” Now it was Emma’s turn to be almost inaudible.

“Yes,” Regina said, and pulled her close for the slowest, sweetest kiss they’d ever had.

**

Something made Emma wake up before dawn and pull out her little box of stuff. Most of it seemed like junk and she couldn’t remember anymore why she was saving it. But she put every piece back in the box, because it was all she had to show for the first 28 years of her life. She didn’t know why she’d held on to this particular stuff, but it had kept her, and so she kept it.

She’d definitely taken the scenic route to find a place she belonged, and lost it more than once along the way. But now here she was, looking over her shoulder at the past, and not in a rush to get anywhere. She wasn’t running or hiding or reaching, just feeling like her life was a soft place to rest. It was so unfamiliar.

It wasn’t perfect, of course. There was no such thing as no regrets, but it was much more than alright.

Emma didn’t know how long she’d been looking out the window, lost in thought, but gradually the sun peeked its way over the horizon, sending a little pinky-golden light into the room. It fell on Regina and made her glow and a slow smile crept across Emma’s face. She rose and walked silently across the floor of the bedroom—their bedroom—and her smile widened when Regina responded to her weight in the bed by shifting toward her.

“Where’ve’y’been?” she asked, adorably mumbly from sleep.

“Just lookin’ out the window,” Emma murmured, wrapping her arm around her.

“Feeling restless?” Regina asked, her eyes opening.

“No. Just appreciating what I have.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s just- the kind of day when I want to call in well and turn off the phone and have sex with you for hours and really just revel in this gift of a life.”

“‘m not awake enough yet for philosophy,” Regina complained. Then she started kissing up Emma’s neck.

“But you’re awake enough for this?”

“I definitely heard you say sex,” Regina said, slipping her hand up inside Emma’s t-shirt and cupping a breast.

Emma chuckled.

“No?” Regina asked.

“Yes please. Keep me in your bed all day,” Emma said, sitting up slightly to pull her shirt off.

“Our bed,” Regina corrected absentmindedly, then wrapped her mouth around a nipple.

“Yes,” Emma breathed, to both.

Cradling Regina’s head against her chest and stroking her hair, soft and wavy from sleep, was almost as good as Regina’s hot mouth growing more insistent on one nipple while she rolled the other gently between her fingers.

Almost. Thinking about how much Regina knew just how to touch her, and that there was no comfort like being known so well, quickly gave way to more intense desire, especially as Regina shifted on top and pressed one thigh between hers. Just when Emma was going to lose sight of how much she adored being adored, Regina’s hands were on her waistband, stripping her pajama pants and underwear down her legs. Emma helped her out of her nightie, too, and then Regina was on top of her again, cupping and squeezing and rubbing where Emma was so, so wet.

“Hi,” she breathed.

“Hi,” Regina said back, pressing her fingers inside.

“So good,” Emma groaned as Regina started pushing in with slow strokes, rubbing her thumb on her clit.

“Yes,” Regina agreed. “Love being inside you.” Emma felt her need growing, because Regina was so, so good at this, but of course then Regina started to move faster, sliding up Emma’s body to press directly on top, and Emma wrapped her arms around her to keep her close.

Soon Emma’s hips were rising to meet her, and Regina gave her another finger. She was so deep inside her, and she felt so good on top of her, and her thumb was hitting her clit just right, and Emma was coming, gripping her hard.

In the very next moment she was rolling Regina over, kissing her deeply, hungrily. Regina moaned into her mouth, and Emma moaned back, then again when her thigh slid between Regina’s and found her so very hot and slick. God, she needed her in her mouth, and she should take the long way around to the orgasm, because it would be completely worth it, but she just _couldn’t_.

She kissed over Regina’s chin and down her neck, and then was distracted by her collarbone, stroking her cheek along it and then nipping lightly. Regina sighed happily and threaded her fingers through her hair, but she also arched a little and oh, nipples brushing against Emma’s chest meant her mouth needed to be _there_. A few hot, open kisses later and she was sucking one and pinching the other, loving the feeling of taut flesh against tongue-palate-teeth and fingertips and the sound of Regina moaning low in her throat.

She reveled in it for long minutes, trading back and forth from one nipple to the other, but then Regina gripped the hand at her breast and pulled it down between her legs. Emma moaned even louder than she did at how wet she was, then lavished more kisses over her ribs, belly, hip to settle between her thighs.

She liked to start with closed-mouthed kisses, but Regina was already so wet and open that flat strokes of her tongue was as slow as she could manage. Gradually, the strokes became swirling, then flicking, then fluttering, a little faster and a little more focused directly on Regina’s clit.

The hot slickness of her was so good, and Regina’s steady moaning was so good, and the way that she was starting to fuck her face now, hand gripping her hair to pull her toward the upward searching of her hips, was so very good. Emma slid both arms under her thighs and pulled her tight to her face as she sucked and swirled her tongue on the velvet hardness of her clit, because there was no drug like the way Regina needed her in these moments.

When Regina tensed and went still except for tiny twitches of her hips, Emma knew she was almost there, and gave her more, more, more of the same to send her over the edge. Then she was coming with a strangled cry, and Emma was stroking her through it, needing to coax every last bit of pleasure out of her until Regina’s fingers under her chin made her stop.

She crawled up Regina’s body and kissed her slow and deep, letting her lick her own wetness off her face, and they were _so_ going to have to go again very soon, but for now it was still very early and she was happy to curl into Regina’s side and hold her for a while. Nothing had healed her like this relationship, and if she was still a mess, she was also so, so, so alive, her heart full and her soul understood.  


 

 


End file.
